Ann Vaughn spoke as she picked up the invitation to take a look. Upon seeing a list of rare dicinal herbs listed on it, her words suddenly took a turn, "I think I should give it a try after all, given such a demanding task, who else but , right?"
Oh my, where on earth did The Gilded Pavilion find so many rare dicinal herbs? It’s unbelievably extravagant!
Seeing Ann Vaughn’s expression change to one of instant interest, Sutton Jennings slightly covered his lips to prevent himself from laughing too noticeably, though his peach-shaped eyes were full of amusent.
"Alright, I’ll co by tomorrow night to pick you up."
Once Sutton Jennings left the apartnt, Ann Vaughn finally entered the newly renovated laboratory, surveyed it, and felt fairly satisfied.
Considering the limited space, achieving this scale in such a short ti required Sutton Jennings to put in substantial effort and ti.
Ann Vaughn took a folder marked "Cancer Cell Inhibitor" from the cabinet and sat down at the table to start working.
She hadn’t officially begun to extract this inhibitor yet, as she was still missing a few herbs, which the rewards from The Gilded Pavilion just happened to include.
If the herbs were flown in from another country, it would take too long, and Ann Vaughn didn’t want to wait.
After finally leaving aside her current work, Ann Vaughn erged from the laboratory and called out into the still-lit living room.
"Sweetie, Mommy is taking you to bed."
"Coming!" Kenny snapped shut the laptop he had been sending ssages on and jumped off the sofa, running over with quick footsteps.
Soon, Ann Vaughn carried a bundle dressed in panda pajamas into the bedroom.
...
At the scene of The Gilded Pavilion auction, the lights were dazzling and celebrities gathered.
Inside the venue, it was arranged in a trapezoid, divided into two levels—one upper, one lower—all surrounding the central auction platform.
The lower level had more seating, with influential people sitting toward the front and center where the view was best.
The upper level seats weren’t accessible simply with money or power; the side terraces held only a re twenty positions, offering not only broad views but significant privileges during bidding.
"I heard The Gilded Pavilion invited that international Divine Doctor to host tonight? Crazy, using such healing hands to take a hamr?"
"Perhaps it’s just hype. I heard the Langdon Family asked the Divine Doctor several tis, all to no avail. That’s one of the political family dynasties, the Langdons, yet the Divine Doctor is truly divine, bowing to neither fa nor fortune."
"Didn’t the Langdon Family release information saying anyone who associates with the Divine Doctor is opposing them? Thanks to them, the Divine Doctor’s studio finally scheduled for tomorrow."
"Langdon Family? Just clowns. Rember how the second Langdon was so carefree, but he offended Mr. Hawthorne and ended up exiled?"
"Let tell you a joke; soone there said the Divine Doctor is Cyrus Hawthorne’s ex-wife Ann Vaughn. Hahaha, absolutely absurd, how could these be the sa person?"
"Shh, quiet down. I heard Mr. Hawthorne is already here, right upstairs. Don’t end up like Langdon No. 2!"
"It’s starting, starting, look up there!"
The previously noisy auction hall quieted down as all the lighting focused on the auction platform, driven by anticipation for tonight’s auction items and the enthusiasm for the rumored Divine Doctor host.
Since The Gilded Pavilion announced Aquarelle Vaughn as the host for the evening, nearly everyone present ca with hopes of interacting with her.
No one dislikes longevity; making connections with a Divine Doctor is beneficial and harmless, as no one knows whether tomorrow or danger will co first.
In the foremost upper-level seat, a man’s long legs crossed elegantly, lightly swirling a glass of red wine between his fingers, his face obscured in dim light, unclear to see.
Only in the occasional reflections from the auction platform’s lights could one vaguely glimpse his exquisitely carved, deep facial lines, akin to the Creator’s proudest masterpiece, flawlessly handso.
"President Hawthorne, here’s tonight’s auction catalog for your review." Mark Joyce approached, quietly handing a catalog with an exquisite cover to the man.
Previewing auction items is one of the privileges of upper-level guests.
"Okay." The man lazily replied, about to open the catalog when the corner of his eye noticed a familiar figure appear on the central auction platform, his gaze suddenly fixated.
The auction platform was brightly lit, and amid the crowd’s eager anticipation, a slender, graceful silhouette erged from the red drapery.
She wore a pale golden peacock feather vintage cheongsam. As she gracefully pulled the curtain aside and stepped out, the feathers embroidered on her sleeves and hem seed dynamic, vividly alive.
Her skin was like snow, her eyes bright and captivating, her red lips gently curved—a beauty of absolute elegance that captured everyone’s attention in an instant.
"Hiss—"
The sound of gasping ca from sowhere unknown.
Almost everyone’s gaze was firmly glued to the beauty on stage, too afraid to look away, lest missing even a second hurt worse than losing millions.
"Hello everyone, I’m the host for tonight, my na is Aquarelle Vaughn." Ann Vaughn stood before the microphone with a gentle smile, not dwelling on an opening, instead diving directly into the content: "Next is the first auction item for tonight—The Chenghua Emperor’s Doucai Chicken Cup."
"This was the imperial wine cup during the Ming Dynasty under the Chenghua Emperor..."
As staff carried the opening item on stage, Ann Vaughn’s softly spoken explanations seed to strike people’s hearts like jade.
Even under bright lights, the radiance emanating from her was like a diamond, dazzling and impossible to look away from.
Above, Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep and narrow gaze remained locked on the petite figure, a stunning impression slowly flowing from the depths of his eyes; his thin lips curled into a slight smile.
This version of Ann Vaughn seed to shine as if the entire person emitted light, incomparable and undeniable.
Brilliantly eye-catching to the extre.
After finishing her explanation, Ann Vaughn stepped aside for the auctioneer to announce the starting price and the range of each bid incrent.
It was then the audience finally snapped to attention, diving into the bidding over the first item; with such a spectacular opening, the items following likely would be even more astonishing.
Listening to the vigorous bidding sounds below, Ann Vaughn’s smile deepened with the perfect arc—a testant to the wicked appeal of wealth.
Suddenly, she sensed an intense gaze locked onto her, as if pegged without deviation, leaving her feeling—
Like a beast in the jungle had targeted her, with an inescapable subconscious sense of danger.
Ann Vaughn’s bright eyes scanned around before settling on the right upper level, stopping at the first terrace seat directly opposite her.
Unexpectedly, she t his gaze—the man lounged with his arms casually draped over the sofa, narrow eyes lazily yet intensely focused on her, catching her completely unprepared.
Ann Vaughn’s smile suddenly froze, her bright eyes blinking several tis to ensure she wasn’t mistaken.
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